By Isle of Wight Observer
We shared some of our grown-up kids with their partners’ families this Christmas. Those giant get-togethers of years gone by don’t always happen now. We did gather on Boxing Day. In the years ahead, I’m sure some of them will want to stay put in their own homes with their children – just as we did when ours were small. Sadly, my old Mum lives in a care home these days; she has cancer. In her twilight years, she seems to recall only the very best Christmases. Our memories do become selective in old age. The festivities can be a challenge; family get-togethers usually include people you’d rather not be spending time with. I was away in the run-up, so my apologies if you didn’t get a card.
On December 1, I flew to Vietnam. It’s a stunning country, but wherever I travel, it’s hard to find scenery better than ours. Tell me where you’ve been that’s noticeably more stunning than the Military Road view towards Freshwater Bay and the Needles! Islanders are as friendly as most global natives, and our beaches are world-class. We’re blessed with some truly outstanding tourist attractions, accommodation, food and events too. I’ve often made a fuss about the ferries, but that’s mostly about commuting, fairness, and the ownership model. My late Dad always said that there was no feeling like boarding the ferry in Lymington. From the moment the boat sailed, he could feel the weight of the world fall from his shoulders.
I’m lucky enough to have been to Africa, India, Australia, Europe and North America, so this time, I decided on the Far East. Vietnam is a long, thin country bordering the South China Sea. Historically, both the French and the Chinese were invaders, and both left their mark. So did the Americans, of course. The Vietnamese people I met seemed to bear them no ill will. As with all wars, there’s plenty of evidence of barbarity on both sides. Can you picture the 9-year-old Kim Phuc, the ‘running girl’, burned in a napalm attack? That image defined the horrors of war and changed minds globally. Kim lives in Canada now; she’s in her 60s and works as a UN anti-war campaigner.
I spent a memorable night under the stars, at beautiful Ha Long Bay in a small boat before taking an overnight train south, sharing a cabin with strangers. It was a novel experience; next time, I’ll try the Orient Express. I enjoyed Vietnam, particularly cycling through the rural parts and browsing the colourful markets. The people are poor, but they’re relentlessly cheerful. Everyone works seven days a week and looks out for each other. I had dinner with a charming local family in Saigon – their food was delicious. The Cu Chi tunnels are an underground relic of the guerrilla war; I managed to squeeze myself through some of the tiny tunnel network they used to ambush American soldiers. Education is everyone’s passion, and I saw many sheltered workshops. The Vietnamese really look after those with disabilities.
Next up was Cambodia, with its historic temples, beautiful scenery, and fabulously kind people. Thanks to an active border dispute with Thailand, our crossing there was substituted for an aeroplane hop. It’s weird flying over a border when the missiles are flying. Thankfully, they missed us. Both countries have communist governments that ignore human rights. Sons replace fathers as presidents. You could tell the people are guarded about politics; that’s understandable when many recall the horrors of the Pol Pot regime. That lunatic starved and killed a quarter of his own population – including babies – in the most barbaric way.
I’ve been to San Francisco a few times, but didn’t leave my heart there. I did leave it in Cambodia; I shall return.